


Golden Petals Scattering

by agoodpersonrose



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5 Things, Domestic Fluff, Early Relationship, I asked google, Inexpert, Language of Flowers, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Day, but like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: 5 special occasions, and 5 times David and Patrick gave each other flowers.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 44
Kudos: 188





	Golden Petals Scattering

The store is ready for customers. The shelves are stocked, and the floor has been swept. Everything is meticulously labelled, and the lights have somehow been fixed up by David’s brand new, detail focused business partner.

All that’s left to do is let people see the work they have done.

The opening event is crowded with the town, and the town’s distant relatives all flocking in from the surrounding ‘Elms’. David’s calves are aching with strain as he finally throws the last of the plastic cups into the clear bin bag and ties the top.

“All done?” Patrick asks from his place behind the till, cashing up the last of the money and placing it in different bags.

“I think so. I could probably sweep again but I’ll save _that_ little treat for tomorrow morning I think.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, David? I know how you like to sleep in, and the store opens at nine tomorrow. It’s a big change from your usual eleven o’clock start.”

David rolls his eyes but takes the dig with grace. “Well, it’s only for a week, and then we’re splitting the shifts, right? So, I’ll be back to a ten o’clock start.”

Patrick nods silently and closes the till. “Hey, before you go. Um, I have a little something for you- To celebrate a seamless opening night.” He looks nervous, his pale cheeks slightly flushed in the low light of the store (they had resorted to turning off the lights on the wall after the embarrassing flickering incident).

“Oh- Should I have gotten you a gift?”

“No, no. This is just because- Well, because I wanted to.”

Patrick slips behind the curtain, his legs still sticking out as he grabs whatever he has bought. He re-emerges with a bunch of pink and white lilies tied with a white ribbon.

Patrick grins nervously as he holds them towards David, looking down as if bashful for his gift.

“Flowers?”

“Well, I’m glad that your observation skills are still sharp.”

David lets out a breathless laugh and takes the flowers. “No, I just- Nobody has ever bought me flowers before.”

Patrick’s smile grows slowly, and he looks almost annoyingly proud of himself. “Well, I guess that I am proud to be the first then, David.”

“They’re beautiful,” David whispers, raising them to his face and breathing in the heady flora. “Do they have a meaning?”

“Well, the lady at the store said that they meant success? Wealth, and prosperity, and aspiration. I thought that was topical considering it being opening night, and I thought they looked quite good, even if they don’t really go with the whole--”

“They’re perfect,” David interrupts him before the spiral can go much further. “I love them, thank you.”

***

It’s a day like any other; the sun is shining, and the birds are- well, David wouldn’t say they’re singing. They’re more _squawking,_ as he walks around the corner from the motel and onto the road to the store.

But he’s in a good mood. He slept well, and he’s wearing one of his very favourite St Laurent sweaters, and its date night tonight, which promises a healthy serving of lasagne at the Elmdale Italian restaurant he and Patrick frequent whenever they are looking for something just an inch higher end than the café tropical mozzarella sticks.

As he rounds the corner, he spots Patrick through the floor to ceiling windows. He’s spraying the fresh produce and looking over his shoulder ever couple of seconds as if nervously awaiting somebody’s arrival.

When he spots David, his face splits into a jaw breaking smile, and David suddenly realises it’s _him._ Patrick is waiting for _him_ to arrive. The thought almost stops him in his tracks as he puts his hand on the door and slowly pushes it open.

“Hi,” he says breathily, taking off his sunglasses and accepting a kiss from Patrick, who immediately made the two steps towards him and accosted him as soon as he entered. “Mm- Hi--” he manages to get out as Patrick kisses him once, twice, three times more, each more insistent than the last. “What’s all this about.”

Patrick’s face is flushed and happy as he finally pulls away. “Oh, you know, it’s a special occasion,” he replies, his eyes shifting over to the counter where a vase filled with red roses sits on the counter.

It’s a gaudy display; far too cheesy to ever be romantic. In fact, David doesn’t like them.

That doesn’t stop him from smiling, however, and crossing the room to get a better look. He runs a gentle finger along the edge of one of the delicate petals and bites down his grin. “What’s all this?” he asks, turning back to Patrick who is watching him from the door. “It’s not my birthday.”

“No, it’s not your birthday,” Patrick confirms, following him over and leaning against the centre display with his arms crossed as David detangles it all.

“Oh God, it’s not _your_ birthday, is it?”

“No, David, it’s not my birthday.”

“What- What is it, then?”

Patrick bites his lip and looks nervous for a second, glancing up at David through his eyelashes. “Well, it’s exactly a month _since_ your birthday. If that- means anything to you.”

David ponders on that for a moment, his right hand still drifting lightly over the red flowers as he thinks. Then it hits him.

“Is this an- _Anniversary_ present?”

“Well, a _Month_ iversary, really--"

“Ew, don’t call it that.”

They’re silent for a moment; David staring at the flowers, while Patrick stares at him. “I’m starting to gather than you maybe don’t like the--”

“I never said that!” David interrupts. “I just- It’s what they _mean_ that I’m not exactly a fan of.”

“They don’t have to mean anything.”

“I just think that celebrating every month should maybe be- discouraged?” David tries, cringing even as he says it. “Just in case we get ahead of ourselves and let this whole thing run away from us.”

Instead of looking annoyed that his sweet gesture is being blown out of proportion, Patrick does his little upside-down smile, and reaches to pull David close; his arms steady and warm around his waist.

“David, this is not going to run away with us, okay? They’re just flowers, they don’t have to mean anything more than that I saw them, and they made me think of you.”

David lets the tension drain out of his body, and flops forward into Patrick’s embrace. “Okay,” he mumbles. “Then, that is a very sweet gesture. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Patrick screws his nose up teasingly as he says it, and David just has to kiss him, so he does.

He smiles and wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and kisses him, trying to put every hope, and worry, and ridiculous wish for their relationship into the kiss. It seems Patrick gets the message, as he just clings tighter to David’s waist and lets himself be kissed.

***

David loves days like this. It’s a Sunday, and they have closed to store for the day so that they can go to the vendor market in Elmdale for the day. The sun is shining in the sky, the town square is bustling with people, and Patrick’s hand is tangled with his.

It’s a perfect opportunity to make new connections and strengthen old ones. So far, they have spent time talking to their candle vendor, and waved at their fresh fruit produce provider, who was too busy to stop for a chat with the crowd of customers surrounding their stall.

Patrick glows here; his white t-shirt and jeans combo is capped off with a pair of thick rimmed sunglasses perched clumsily on his nose, which he keeps having to push up, not yet used to the weight of them on his face.

“Did you want something else to eat,” he asks as they dodge through the crowds, tugging each other in one direction and the next. Patrick must find it funny how easily David is led, because he chuckles all the while. Though perhaps he’s just happy. It’s a feeling David still isn’t used to; happiness for happiness’ sake, but he thinks maybe he can feel it today.

“Something else on top of the two bagels I ate at the stall two minutes ago, plus half of your muffin, and a pastry?” David asks. “Yes, yes I do.”

Patrick laughs, easy and loud, and his grip on David’s hand tightens.

“I think I saw an ice cream stand in that direction,” he points with their joint hand. “Shall we?”

David nods, biting down on his lips and trying to tamper down the joy bubbling up to the surface. Patrick heads at speed in the direction of the food stalls, but something catches David’s eye that makes him pull up short.

“Wait,” he says, tugging on Patrick’s hand to bring him to a stop. He overdoes it just slightly, and Patrick stumbles backwards, but David catches him and without stopping for a breath, pulls him across the walkway, against the current of the crowds, to a small stall in the corner.

“David, what--”

“Shh!”

David grabs the small bundle of yellow tulips which had called for his attention. He checks them quickly for damage of imperfection, but when he finds them relatively flawless, he turns to the woman running the stall.

“Hi, can I have these, please?”

“Sure, that will be three dollars, would you like them wrapped?”

“Um, no, I think that’s fine, thank you,” David says as he drops Patrick’s hand so that he can dig around in his pocket for the money. “Oh, actually, could I have one of those little ribbons?”

“Sure, on the house. I shop at Rose Apothecary all the time, and I cannot get enough of your hand creams. They’ve been a godsend for me after a day of handling flowers.”

“That’s very kind of you thank you,” David preens.

“Here, I can tie those for you.”

David hands the tulips to the woman and smiles as Patrick steps closer behind him and hooks his head over his shoulder. “Who are those for?” he asks as they watch the woman tie a neat bow around the stalks. He stays silent as she passes them back and smiles, before turning to the next customer.

David and Patrick step out of the way, but before they can rejoin the flocks of people, David grabs onto Patrick’s arm. “Here, they’re for you,” he says, bashfully.

“Oh, David, you didn’t have to do that,” Patrick says, but he’s looking at them with wide adoring eyes, which he soon turns on David. “Why did you do that?”

David shrugs. “They matched my mood,” he mumbles, looking away and trying to appear casual. “Anyway, I believe someone promised me ice cream?”

***

David and Patrick wave off the Brewers from the motel the next morning, after a long and heartfelt breakfast, wherein they share everything they have missed, and talk through where they’ll go from here.

David is exhausted when they arrive back at the apartment, and is grateful when Patrick pushes him towards the bed, instructing him to get a few more hours of sleep after their late night and early morning.

“I’m going to do some cleaning at the store, and then I’ll put a sign in the door and I’ll come home,” he says as David dazedly struggles to get his skin tight jeans off, and stumbles onto the duvet.

“I can come in and take over later,” he mumbles, though it’s largely muffled by the pillow he has shoved his face into. “I’ll do the afternoon shift.”

Suddenly Patrick is there, hovering over him. He presses a kiss to David’s forehead and, when David purses his lips in thin air, presses another one to his mouth. “You’ve done enough. I’ll be back before you wake up.”

“Mm don’t promise that,” David mumbles, already bordering sleep. “You might not make it in time.”

“Okay, but even if I don’t, I’ll be back soon after you wake up.”

“Mm’kay, I love you. Be safe.”

“I love you, David. So much, I won’t be long.”

With that, David lets his breathing even out, and he falls asleep to the sound of keys jangling, and the front door shutting and being locked.

When he wakes up, he is surprised to find that the sun is already setting. There is still the glow of daylight over the horizon, but it’s sinking, and flickering like a flame?

David startles up, but instead of the roaring fire he’s expecting to find, he sees Patrick, sat on the floor of the living area, meticulously lighting candles set on various surfaces. “What are you doing?”

Patrick straightens up and looks towards the bed. “Good morning, sunshine. You sleep well?”

“Did I sleep all day?” David asks, rubbing dry skin out of his eye and stretching his muscles with a satisfied grunt.

“You must have needed it.”

“Mhm,” David confirms, enjoying the lax feeling in his legs and arms as he flops back onto the bed. “And what did you do while I was sleeping?”

Patrick crosses the room and jumps onto the bed, joining David at his side. “Well,” he says softly into David’s ear. “First, I went to the store, and I bought all the ingredients to make a very fancy chicken parmesan. My mother’s recipe, that you were practically salivating over when she mentioned this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, and then I also bought some new candles, and stopped by the apothecary to buy one of our blankets. Then, as a final touch, I bought you these.”

David wrinkles his nose as Patrick shoves a bouquet of blue hydrangeas into his face. “And what did I do to deserve that?” he asks, pushing them away so that he can sit up, and then immediately taking them, trying his best not to look like he’s cradling them to his chest.

“Well, the lady at the store--”

“God, does this poor lady at the store have nothing better to do than answer your botany questions?”

“Botany--?”

David waves the question away with his free hand. “Not the point. Go on, what did the woman at the store say about these ones?”

“Well. She said they were perfect to show heartfelt gratitude. Like how I feel for you, for everything you did yesterday, and for the rest of our relationship.”

“Mm, you know there are cheaper ways of showing your gratitude, right?”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Patrick leers, leaning over David and slowly beginning to push him back into the mattress.

“I could give you a practical demonstration,” David murmurs, but then immediately rolls out from Patrick’s arms and clambers off the bed. “Once I’ve put these in some water.”

“What- David!”

***

David can’t stop his knee from bouncing. His stomach feels like it’s full of some disgusting winged creature like a moth or several butterflies, and his hands are shaking. Stevie puts the car in park and looks at him.

“You okay?”

“Do you know if he’s in there yet?” David asks, fiddling with the stems of his bouquet and chewing his lip nervously. “Like, is he stood in front of all the people yet or is he still in the back?”

“You want to see him?”

“Desperately.”

Stevie checks her phone. “Well, your parents and Alexis are running behind so we can’t go in yet anyway. Something about your Mom’s wig causing issues. I’ll call Clint.”

David wiggles anxiously in the passenger seat of his parent’s car and tries to get himself to calm down. He ignores whatever Stevie is saying into the phone, but generally gathers that the answer to her question is in the affirmative.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees his fiancé, for a half an hour or so still, rounding the back of the Town Hall. David rushes out of the car, tripping over the foot mat and stumbling straight into Patrick’s arms.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Patrick asks. But he seems nervous too; David can see where he has chewed his lip, and his hands are trembling slightly even as they reach up to calmingly stroke down his sides.

“I just needed to see you,” David replies, his thumbs tracing the line of Patrick’s blazer. “Wait, where is your boutonniere? I thought you were going to have a boutonniere? What happened to it?”

Patrick grins slightly and shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal, David. It was just a little squashed, so I went without it.”

“Nope, absolutely not. This won’t do--”

David pulls the smallest white rosebud out of his simple wedding bouquet and turns back to the car.

“There should be a safety pin in the front compartment,” he says, leaning in through the window and gesturing at Stevie, who digs through to find it without one word of complaint.

He bends the stem and breaks the bottom off, wrapping it in a spare piece of string in his bouquet, and then pins it Patrick’s lapel.

“There. Better,” he says, nodding in satisfaction, and letting his hands linger on Patrick’s chest.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick whispers, angling up for a kiss. Their lips are almost touching when a screeching noise comes from behind them, and Alexis’ voice rings out.

“Don’t touch each other!” she yells. “You’re getting married! This is bad luck!”

“We’ve already seen each other!” David yells back, but he does pull his head away, earning a pout from Patrick. “What is _one kiss_ going to do?”

But Alexis is firm. She clambers out of the car and rushes over, an impressive feat in her high heels and _wedding_ dress. Patrick puts his arms up in surrender but at the last minute, grabs David’s bare left hand, and presses a kiss to the fourth finger, soon to be adorned with one part of their matching wedding rings.

“See you inside,” he says softly, chuckling as Alexis shoulders him away and pushes him back towards the Town Hall.

David watches him go, clutching his bouquet to his chest like a support doll and feeling the tension dissipate. A tiny part of it is pinned to his husband’s chest, soon to be reunited with him just through those doors.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I write 2,500 words based on the fact that I went to Lidl today and saw some flowers and got sad because I wanted them? Maybe? 
> 
> The title is from Mariah Carey, 'Petals', because it felt RIGHT
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little ficlet!! Let me know what you thought in the comments 🌼


End file.
